


Returned

by Minuial_Nuwing



Series: Legacy Universe [7]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Brotherhood, Ficlet, Gen, Third Age, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-03
Updated: 2006-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minuial_Nuwing/pseuds/Minuial_Nuwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrohir wakes at last.</p><p>(Written for the LJ 50passages challenge, prompt: <i>The chamber was filled with a soft light; its walls were green and silver and its roof of gold.</i>)</p><p>******************</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returned

_~Lórien, 2933 III~_

Elrohir blinked owlishly, the unfamiliar room coming into focus around him. His eyelids felt curiously heavy, as though he had not slept, yet the ache of his bed-sore muscles told him he had laid long without moving. Ignoring the dull throbbing at the base of his skull, Elrohir turned his head gingerly, taking in his surroundings with growing confusion.

He lay on a wide, soft bed, his naked body tucked between crisp white sheets that smelled at once strange and oddly familiar. The chamber was filled with a soft light; its walls were green and silver and its roof of gold. Wisps of song reached his ears, the indiscernible words nudging playfully at the edges of his memory. Just as Elrohir cleared his dry throat and attempted to speak, a gasp of surprise caused him to turn his head – with regrettable swiftness – toward the opposite side of the bed.

Elladan appeared exhausted, his face wan, his movements stiff and awkward as he slid from his chair, but there was no mistaking the joy that sparkled in his red-rimmed eyes. “Praise the Valar, you have returned,” he whispered unsteadily, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking Elrohir’s hand carefully in his own. “I had all but lost hope, tôr dithen.”

Elrohir looked down at his own body curiously, staring at the pristine bandage that swathed his chest and the intricate rows of suture that ran like some bizarre adornment across his forearm. ‘What...” he began, then the memories returned in a rush. 

The trek through the mountains, the unlikely ambush...the strangely skilled orcs, the searing pain as the crude but effective arrow tore through his chest, the horror in Elladan’s eyes as he helplessly watched the scimitar slice into his brother’s sword arm. The swimming darkness that closed in even as he struggled to remain conscious, to protect...

“Arathorn?”

Elladan shook his head reluctantly, tears welling again despite his best efforts. “There were too many of them, ‘Roh. He died quickly. An arrow to the eye.”

Elrohir swallowed thickly. “The boy?”

“He is with Ada. Gilraen, as well.”

“And where are _we?_ ”

The soft swish of robes brought the scent of niphredil and cloudless skies, and a musical voice, touched by a hint of laughter, answered before Elladan could speak. “Has it been so very long that you have forgotten, ‘Rohir?”

Elrohir looked at the airy room with sudden understanding. “I have not forgotten,” he answered with a slight smile, gazing up into Galadriel’s clear blue-grey eyes. “These are your chambers.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, sitting down gracefully at her grandson’s side. “You have once again ousted your grandfather from his own suite.” 

Her face sobering, she reached out and curled her fingers over the twins’ clasped hands. “My heart weeps for the loss of your kinsman,” Galadriel said gently, her eyes clouding as she stared into the distance. “But fate knows not mercy,” she murmured, shivering as though unexpectedly chilled.

“And there is greater loss to come.”

*~*~*~*~*


End file.
